thirteen hundred hours
by Bella Ragazza
Summary: [quistis/seifer drama] warning: never provoke a vigilante cadet when he's got murder on his mind.


1300 Hours [quistis/seifer drama]  
  
  
  
ff8 fanfiction by bella ragazza  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
----------  
  
  
  
"...You asked for this one, Seifer."  
  
The boy ignored the jab, leaning over to prod at the lacquered floor with his gunblade at regular intervals. Wide shoulders twitched with rage, the only inclination of emotion. He had sat much the same way for the past three hours, occasionally glancing at a wristwatch under his long coat sleeve.  
  
  
  
Quistis Trepe watched wearily from behind a wooden desk, jotting down a formal report on official Garden letterhead to be sent over to the Faculty. Seifer was to be detained until 1300 hours, when the head staff would congregate on 3F to 'discuss the matter at hand.' It looked grim for the arrogant cadet, the stoic and unforgiving Faculty was already highly incensed from pervious altercations and gentle-hearted Cid Kramer had limited control in the scheme of things. Even someone low on the food chain like Quistis knew Cid was merely a figurehead for the mysterious head honcho who really ran the show. The woman shivered, hugging lean arms to her body. If whoever it was got their hands on him...  
  
  
  
"Instructor..."  
  
  
  
Quistis startled, hand making an errant ink mark in mid-sentence and she cursed quietly, reaching in the dusty drawer for paper correcting fluid. "Yes Seifer?"  
  
  
  
He looked up, toying with a stray thread on the hem of his sweeping coat. "What're you doing?" The voice was questioning with syllables laced with an undercurrent of warning, as always. As she looked up to meet pale green eyes a blurred memory of the same inquisitive gaze in a child appeared in her mind, much to her confusion. She shook it off, dabbing at the stiff paper with a tiny brush coated in white.  
  
  
  
"Really, Seifer...what does it matter? I'm writing a letter." She sighed world-weary, filling out the required form in neat script.  
  
  
  
Seifer banged a fist on the desk, unsatisfied. "Dammit Trepe! Don't play coy with me..." He snarled, stomping to his feet and stalking over to the desk with great big strides. "Didn't you tell your EX-students 'if you want to know, simply ask?'" He stressed the 'ex', and Quistis felt herself bite her upper lip to hold back the wall of hurt that was welling in the pit of her stomach.  
  
  
  
She swallowed, trying to keep her teacher's bravado intact. "Unacceptable Seifer, to talk about my shortcomings. We would be here all day discussing your own."  
  
  
  
Seifer growled and leaned over; she jumped as two leather-clad hands braced themselves on the edge of the desk. "Well I'm SIMPLY fucking asking! What does that say about me?!" He snatched the paper from her shaking hands, holding high in his hand like a trophy while reading aloud in a shaky stage voice.  
  
  
  
"Seifer Almasy has an inability to follow orders, regardless of the fact he may be putting lives at risk. His arrogant and self-centered nature is deep- rooted and constantly manifesting itself in dangerous ways, several incidents of abuse from Garden students have been reported over the past six months and..." He trailed off, reading silently to himself until he turned the page.  
  
  
  
"...Possible psychiatric evaluation necessary." He silently mouthed the sentence again, letting out a raw bark as he tore the papers to shreds and deposited them on Quistis's desk in a neat heap. "And you can tell your precious Faculty to shove it."  
  
  
  
Her fear quickly turned to rage as she yanked open the drawer to retrieve a fresh sheet. "If we're going to play that game, I've got a whole stack right here."  
  
  
  
"I would, but no can do Trepe." He smirked, glancing at his wristwatch. "I got plans." With this he headed for the mechanical doors, face contorted in inflamed rage.  
  
  
  
Quistis frantically pressed the buzzer underneath her desk, jabbing it till she felt she finger ache. "Oh no you most certainly do NOT!" As the cadet was about to make his cocky exit, two burly security guards forced their way in, pinning Seifer against the wall with backbreaking force. She watched with her arms folded, surprised how he subdued without a struggle.  
  
  
  
"Trepe...Trepe...sending your pathetic meathead reinforcements all for me?" He turned towards her with a piercing emerald stare as pouty lips twisted in a sadistic smile. "Thoughtful." He lashed out with a neat roundhouse and as his body spun around he slammed his fist into the nose of the other guard and both went down, cursing and bleeding as they tried to get their bearings.  
  
  
  
Seifer leaped over their bodies, unsheathing his gunblade and waving in the direction of her person. "Later Trepe."  
  
  
  
Quistis sagged against the wall, hands clasped over her breast in dismay. "WHERE are you going?!"  
  
  
  
He leaned in towards her, closer still till she could feel the heat radiating off his body and smell the musk and cologne wafting off the anger red skin. She shivered transfixed, not daring to move away, his gaze as potent as any Slow spell.  
  
  
  
"Thirteen hundred hours. I gotta President to assassinate...Instructor dear." His breath smelled of mint and he spoke casually, as if discussing a stroll in the Garden courtyard.  
  
  
  
His footsteps were still echoing in her mind as she slumped to the floor, blood in her ears buzzing and pulsating.  
  
  
  
Quistis cried.  
  
  
  
  
  
-fin-  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
a/n: one-shot of the time in-game between Seifer in the disciplinary room till the time he arrives at the Timber TV station. (yeah, no hot wild Seiftis sex I know. ;)) Too bad…it wasn't the point of this piece. 


End file.
